Winter.

I stand beside nude trees,
Under a bare sky.
It’s cobalt-coloured – like stripped-bare dreams;
It’s leaden, and naked of life.

The Pavilion is risen tall;
Its grandeur all too clear.
If you’d like to take a winter stroll,
Why don’t you meet me here?

My skin is chilled
And my dreams hang low –
Like a frosty, morning fog.

And I pine for you,
In grumbled tones –
After my keeper,
Like a dog.

If you should see me upon the pavement
With desolate-looking eyes,
Know there’s a sparkle present
And, because of you, my tears have dried.

And I feel I’m not kidding myself
With the undulations of my mind;
No matter what my temperament,
I know you’ll soothe me in tones kind.

The sky is cobalt-blue
And the leaves are in dank piles.
But I’ll walk these paths with you –
And I’ll walk them for miles.